


Second Chances Don't Happen to Everyone

by Tuliaprill



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Canon Rewrite, F/M, Hogwarts First Year, M/M, Minor Rubeus Hagrid Bashing, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Draco Malfoy, rated for language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:06:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25095067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tuliaprill/pseuds/Tuliaprill
Summary: Thousands of people died in the war that didn't fight in it. Muggles. Centaurs. Merfolk. Trolls. Giants. Elves. Goblins. Young and old, that never got recognized. Wix focused on only our kind.In the department of Mysteries, they found a possible way of sending a person back in time. Several years back in time, rather than hours using a time-turner. They needing someone disposable. Someone no one would miss to send back in time. If it worked they would try their best to reduce the number of deaths during the war.Deciding he had nothing to lose Draco Malfoy volunteered.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Ron Weasley
Comments: 14
Kudos: 76





	1. Prologue — Breathe

To say he was scared would be a massive understatement. 

The Department of Mysteries needed a trustworthy, influential,  _ disposable  _ person for this test, Draco Malfoy fit the role perfectly. — 

The idea of going back in time to your own body was a feat previously thought impossible. There was an ancient spellbook tucked away in the corners of none other than Malfoy Manor that held the answers. 

It was a long process, involving 3 incredibly difficult potions, including some of the rarest ingredients, long complicated spells and chants, and a fireplace made of solid diamond. 

The war was won, yes, but at the cost of thousands of lives. This  _ process _ could save all those lives. 

One mistake and his life would be over. If it was done correctly, it could stop so much pain before it even started. 

Once he was back in time he may lose his memories of what happened in the first timeline, so they sent him an interestingly worded message in case he forgot or lost some of his memories. 

This would be the day his life ended or restarted, and he was terrified.

“July 27, 1991. Malfoy Manor!” Was the last thing he’d heard before blacking out.

When he next opened my eyes he was face down on the carpet of the Manor library. 

Looking around he realized it had worked. The process had worked! He was going to redo his whole school life. He opened the envelope in his hand and skipped down to the list of things he had to do and remember. 

  * _Befriend Harry Potter._


  * Be nice


  * Don’t bring up your father in any way shape or form.


  * Don’t be condescending.


  * Don’t insult his friends.


  * Tell Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore.


  * Enclosed are two letters addressed to them individually.


  * Tell your father as little as possible.


  * His views are wrong 


  * He is a Death Eater.


  * Save the World


  * Good luck.



  1. _You’ll need it._



A real vote of confidence there. They  _ really _ expected this to fail.

The clock on the mantle read 4:28. It was dark, meaning it was morning. This was already off to a  _ great  _ start. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Edited 12/9/2020


	2. The Second-First Impression

  
  


The 31 did not come soon enough. When Dobby came into Draco's room to announce “Master has requested you be ready to go in 30 minutes, Master Draco.” he was beyond ready.

“Thank you, Dobby,” he said, finishing up the buttons on my shirt. “Tell father I’ll be right down.”

“Is Master Draco not going to gel his hair back?” Dobby asked, curiously. “Has Master Draco run out? Shall Dobby fetch Master Draco some?”

“Just call me Draco, please. And no, I’m not going to gel my hair, it looks rather awful that way.”

Dobby looked ecstatic, “Of Course Draco!” he squeaked. “Won’t Master be angry if Draco is not looking up to standard?”

“Let him be angry. I don’t care.” Draco said honestly. Something that would have never come out of his mouth at this time. 

“Okay, Dobby will be telling Master that Draco is ready.” The elf bowed before he disapparated with a pop. 

When Draco walked down the stairs he was greeted with incredulity. 

“Draco, what is your  _ hair _ ?!” Father exclaimed, shock evident in his voice.

“It’s not a mess,” he reached up to touch it. “Is it?” 

“No, son,” Mother said. “It looks fine. But you haven’t gelled it.”

“I realize,” Draco said. “It looks worse that way, doesn’t it?”

Father’s face turned red but mother spoke before he could explode, “Whatever you say, Darling. We really must be going now.” She held out her arm to side-along me.

I checked my pockets for my wand before I remembered I hadn’t gotten it yet. So I flattened my hair and straightened my shirt before grabbing her.

“I’m going to go see if Flourish and Blotts have the book I want,” Father said after we had gotten several bags of gold from our vaults. “I’ll get your books as well. I may need to go to other places as well. I’ll meet you at home for dinner.”

“Of course, dear.” Mother said. Father nodded and disappeared into the crowd. “Now that your father’s gone, can you tell me what’s up, darling?”

“I just don’t think I’ll make any real friends if I do what Father saysRevenge do you think that? What about Vincent and Greg?”

“They just do whatever I say. It’s like having  _ minions _ . People don’t like father, I want people to like me. I want people to see me, not Father or his money or his influence.”

Mother raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow and smiled softly. “Whatever you say, dear. I’ll be at the wand shop, can you get your robes on your own?”

“Yes, mother,” Draco said and smiled back.

A witch was just starting to pin me up when the door to the shop opened.  _ Harry _ .

Madam Malkin went to go greet him, “Hogwarts, dear?” she said. “Got the lot here — another young man being fitted up just now.”

“Hello,” Draco said, exactly as he did last time.  _ Be nice and in no way condescending _ , he reminded himself. “You're a first-year, too?” 

“Yeah,” Harry said. 

“I’m excited but at the same time so utterly nervous,” Draco said, rather than mentioning his parents and talking about quidditch, at this point he doesn’t know what that is. “You?”

“Yeah. I’m new to this whole  _ world _ .”

Draco smiled, “I plan on reading all of our textbooks the moment I get my hands on them. Usually, muggle-borns are way ahead of the curriculum in first and second year ‘cause they read all the textbooks several times.” 

“Muggle-borns?” Harry asked.  _ Shit _ .

“People with muggle parents.”

“Oh.” He frowned.

“It doesn’t really matter as I said, they’re usually ahead of the people that were born into it. What house do you want to be in? I want Ravenclaw, I’ll probably be in Slytherin though.” 

“Er-” He looked like he felt stupid.  _ SHIT _ . Why was this so hard?

“Ravenclaw is the house for the wise, creative, and clever. Slytherin is for the ambitious, cunning, and resourceful. Hufflepuffs are loyal, patient, and friendly. Gryffindors are brave to the point of stupidity.”

“I don’t fit any of those,” Harry whined slightly.

“I’d guess Gryffindor. They are also stubborn, passionate, blunt, and prone to procrastination.”

“Yeah, definitely not me,” Harry mumbled, eyes downcast.

“I suppose, you never really know till you get there. It’s impossible to fail the sorting. I heard it’s a hat that sorts you.”

Then Draco spotted Hagrid in the window with two large ice creams. “Is he with you? Isn’t he the gamekeeper, Hagrid?”

“Yes. To both of those.” He said.

“I’m off to Olivanders next, to get my wand. Come with?” I offered. 

“Are you here with anyone?”

“Hm? Oh of course. I’m eleven after all. My mother’s meeting me there.” I said, simply. “If you don’t want to come that’s alright,” Draco said as he looked between him and Hagrid.

“I’ll have to ask Hagrid, but I would like to,” Harry said.

“Okay.” Draco smiled. He must have done something right. Harry doesn’t hate him, yet. 

They paid for their respective robes before walking out of the shop to where Hagrid was.

“Hi, Hagrid,” Harry beamed.

“Hello?” Hagrid said back, frowning at me. Shit, he probably recognizes me.

“Oh, Hagrid, this is Draco. He was in the robe shop too. He’s going to Olivanders to meet up with his mother. Could we go with him?”

Hagrid stared down at me. He’s taller than Draco remembers, but he supposed he was just shorter. “Your Lucius Malfoy’s kid,” the man said.

“Unfortunately,” Draco replied with a sigh. “I’ll be going then.”

“Why?” Harry asked. 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Er-”

“Trust me, Harry,” Hagrid said glaring at me, his voice only slightly lowered. “You don’t want to be friends with  _ him _ .”

Draco lowered his head and pushed past them. Why was this so hard? He’d thought he was making headway. He supposed no one can look past his name, even when he tries to hide it. Pushing through the crowd Draco tried not to cry.  _ Fuck _ . That hurt more this time. He spotted Ollivander’s wand shop and tried to collect himself before walking inside.

“Draco, darling-” Mother said before she frowned. “Did things go alright in Madam Malkins?”

“Hm? Oh yes.” Draco said, before turning to Ollivander. “Shall we get started?”

“Why of course.” Ollivander grabbed the measuring tape, “Hold out your wand arm.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Edited 12/9/2020


	3. Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we're essentially going to be reading the book. It's going to be short, sorry.   
> I'm probably going to do more chapters like this, maybe with other characters as well.

“Trust me, Harry,” Hagrid said glaring at Draco, his voice only slightly lowered. “You don’t want to be friends with  _ him _ .”

Based on Draco’s crestfallen expression he’d heard Hagrid loud and clear. He turned and left Harry with Hagrid.

“What was that for?” Harry asked.

“The Malfoys are one of the families that served You-Know-Who back in the first war but got away with it because of their money,” Hagrid said, disdain clear in his voice.

“Really? He seemed really nice,” Harry said with a small pout. “He gave better descriptions of the houses than you. More indifferent.”

“Yeah? It’s not my fault that there’s not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn’t in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one, years an’ years ago.”

They bought Harry’s school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps with nothing in them at all. Even Dudley, who never read anything, would have been wild to get his hands on some of these. Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from  _ Curses and Counter-curses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenge: Hair Loss, Jelly Legs, Tongue-Tying, and Much, Much More) _ by Professor Vindictus Viridian.

“I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley.” 

“I’m not sayin’ that’s not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very special circumstances,” said Hagrid. “An’ anyway, yeh couldn’t work any of them curses yet, yeh’ll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level.”

Hagrid wouldn’t let Harry buy a solid gold cauldron, either (“It says pewter on yer list”), but they got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited the Apothecary, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. 

Outside the Apothecary, Hagrid checked Harry’s List again.

“Just yer wand left — oh yeah, an’ I still haven’t got yeh a birthday present.”

Harry felt himself go red, “You don’t have to —”

“I know I don’t have to. Tell yeh what, I’ll get yer animal. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh’d be laughed at — an’ I don’ like cats, they make me sneeze. I’ll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls, they’re dead useful, carry yer mail and everything’.”

Twenty minutes later, they left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Harry now carried a large cage that held a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing. He couldn’t stop stammering his thanks, sounding just like Professor Quirrell.

“Don’ mention it,” said Hagrid gruffly. “Don’ expect you’ve had a lotta presents from them Dursleys. Just Ollivanders left now — only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand.”

A magic wand . . . this was what Harry had really been looking forward to.

The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B. C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

He’d gone through dozens of wands before he took a “holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple” wand. When Harry raised the wand and swished it red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework.

Apparently, the core phoenix feather had a ‘twin’ or a feather from the same bird in another wand. Voldemorts wand. 

“The wand chooses the wizard, remember. . . . I think we must expect great things from you Mr. Potter. . . . After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things — terrible, yes, but great.”

_ I’m not sure if I quite liked Mr. Ollivander _ , Harry thought, shivering. He ended up paying seven galleons for the wand before leaving the shop.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Edited 7/20/2020
> 
> **Edited 12/9/2020


	4. A Train Ride & Possible Friends

Platform 9 & ¾ was positively bursting with activity. Father had opted not to come but Mother was there to see Draco off. 

He began to move toward the train when she turned him around and wrapped her arms around him. She held him at arm’s length before she spoke. “Have fun, stay out of trouble, and make some friends!” Draco began to pull away and move toward the train. “Be sure to write!” She added. 

“Good-bye, Mum!” he called back, before entering the bright red train. 

Well, shit. He’s never called her mum before. Here’s to hoping she didn’t notice or doesn’t care. If Draco recalls correctly in his first-year Harry was in a compartment near the back of the train. 

When he finally found them Harry and Weasely were staring at each other in complete silence. 

“Er, hello?” Draco said, opening the compartment. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

“Oh, Draco!” Harry greeted me excitedly. “Not at all. Come in! Draco, this is Ron Weasley. Ron this is Draco Malfoy.”

Draco entered the compartment and held out my hand to Weasley. “Nice to meet you, Ron,” he said.  _ Merlin, that felt wrong. _

As expected Weasel simply glaired. Draco let his hand hang there for a few seconds longer before attaching it to his elbow. 

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked.

Draco took a deep breath once it became obvious Weasley wasn’t going to answer. “Our families don’t like each other.”

“That’s an understatement,” Weasley muttered.

“We’re opposites in most things. And my father’s a git-”

“He’s a DEATH-EATER!” Weasley snapped.

“Same difference,” Draco waved him off, “but I’m  _ not _ my father.”

“So you admit that he wasn’t forced,” Weasley demanded.

“He was  _ far _ from forced, trust me. I live with him.”

“Alright then,” He said. “If Harry thinks you're alright ’might as well give you a shot.”

“Are all your family wizards?” asked Harry.

“Er — yes, I think so,” said Ron. “I think Mum’s got a second cousin who’s an ‒ accountant?”

“Draco?”

“Hm. I believe so, yes. What about you Harry? Your muggle relatives raised you?”

“Oh yeah, I heard about that. What are they like?”

“Horrible — well, not all of them. My aunt, uncle, and cousin are, though. I wish I’d had three, brothers.”

“Five,” said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. “I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I’ve got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left — Bill was head boy and Charlie was Quidditch captain. Now Percy’s a Prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they’re really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I’ve got Bill’s old robes, Charlie’s old wand, and Percy’s old rat.” Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep. “His name’s Scabbers and he’s useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a Prefect, but they couldn’t aff- I mean, I got Scabbers instead.” 

“I honestly think it’s better than being an only child.” Ron snorted. “Really! If you did anything to get in detention I doubt anyone would bat an eye. My father would flip his shit if I got any grade lower than an O.”

“Wow. Until Hagrid told me, I didn’t know anything about being a wizard, or about my parents, or Voldemort —” 

Weasley’s gasp stopped him.

“What?” Harry and Draco asked.

“ _ You said You-Know-Who’s name! _ ” Weasley sounded shocked and impressed.   
  


“It’s just a name, Weasley.” Draco snorted. “Hell, it isn’t even his real name.”

“Really?” Harry asked, seeming glad that he wasn’t the only one who called him by the name Tom gave himself.

“Yeah, who would want to follow  _ Tom Marvolo Riddle _ . All of his most loyal followers are hard-core blood-purists, they would never follow him if they knew he was a half-blood.” Draco said. “My batshit crazy Aunt was his right hand and would’ve probably killed him if she’d found out.”

“Really?” Weasley asked. “Damn, you’re not gonna go insane and kill us are ya?” 

“Oi!” Draco imitated defensiveness. “It’s not my fault most of my relatives are insane or evil or both. And besides, I plan to defect by the time we finish school.”

“Defect?” The idiots he was attempting to befriend asked.

“Seriously?” he asked. “Ask someone with the patience to explain the English language.”

The tips of Weasley’s ears turned pink and Harry’s cheeks flushed as they both looked at the window.

“Honestly.” Draco shook his head as the pair watched fields zoom by. 

5 minutes had barely passed when the Trolly Lady opened the door to the compartment and asked if we’d like “Anything off the cart”.

Harry bought some of everything. Draco got a few Cauldron Cakes, Chocolate Frogs, and 2 boxes of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans. 

Ron stared at Harry’s arms as he dumped his stash in the seat Draco previously occupied. 

“Hungry, are you?” Weasley asked as Potter began unwrapping a Pumpkin Pastry. 

“Starving,” Harry replied as Draco took the seat next to his pile of sweets.

Weasley had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it revealing four sandwiches. 

“Alright! We get it, Weasley,” Draco tossed him a cake and a frog. “No need to mope any longer.”

“Swap you for one of these,” Harry said, holding up a pastry. “Go on —”

“You sure?” He looked between the sweets that had landed on his lap and the one in Harry’s hand.

“Yeah,” Harry said, shaking the pastry. 

“Naturally,” Draco drawled.

“Okay.” He took the pastry from Harry’s hand and opened it.

“These aren’t  _ really _ frogs, are they?” Harry asked, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs.

“No,” Ron answered. “But see what the card is. I’m missing Agrippa.”

“Really? That was like my first card.” Draco sighed. “Instead I’m missing some of the most common cards, including  _ Dumbledore _ . It’s quite sad really.”

Ron laughed just as Harry said, “You mean this card?” Causing the red-head to laugh harder.

“Oh shut up!” I said, throwing another frog at his face.

“He’s gone!” Harry exclaimed.

“He’ll be back, don’t you worry,” Draco said, patting his hair.  _ Why was it so fucking soft? _

Weasley continued to eat all of Harry’s frogs and just gave him the cards. 

Harry was reaching for a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.

“Be careful with those,” Weasley warned. “When they say every flavor, they mean every flavor —”

“You just need to learn how to differentiate the good ones from the bad ones,” Draco said, popping a strawberry flavored one into his mouth from one of his own bags.

“I doubt anyone could do that,” he said biting into a green one carefully. “Bleargh — see? Sprouts.”

Draco plucked an off-white one and popped it into his mouth easily. “Marshmallow,” he reported with a smirk. 

We continued to eat the beans as the countryside became woods with twisting rivers and dark green hills.

There was a knock on the compartment door and Neville Longbottom poked his head in and asked if we’d seen his toad. He left after we all shook our heads.

“You know Scabbers might have died and you wouldn’t know the difference,” Ron said, disgust evident in his voice. “I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn’t work. I’ll show you.” He pulled his wand out of his trunk. “Unicorn hair’s nearly poking out. Anyway —”

He was raising his wand when Hermione Granger made an appearance, Longbottom by her side.

“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one,” She said.

“We haven’t seen it,” Draco said, politely as he could.

“Are you doing magic? Let’s see it then.”

She took the seat next to Weasley who appeared taken aback.

“Er — all right.” He said, raising his wand once more. “ _ Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow _ .”

Draco barely repressed a snicker. Merlin, this was much more entertaining than hanging out with Vincent or Greg, but they were all equally stupid.

“Are you sure that’s a real spell?” Granger asked. 

“It’s not.” Draco snorted.

“Oh! That makes sense. I’ve tried a few simple spells just for practice and it’s all worked for me. Nobody in my family’s magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it’s the very best school of witchcraft there is, I’ve learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough — I’m Hermione Granger. By the way, who are you?”

“Draco Malfoy,” Draco said, reaching out his hand for her to shake. “I’ve got them memorized too. I think it’ll be enough, at least for now.”

“I’m Ron Weasley,” Ron muttered.

“Harry Potter.”

“Are you really?” Hermione said after shaking my hand. “I got a few extra books for background reading, and you’re in  _ Modern Magical History _ and  _ The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts  _ and  _ Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century _ .”

“Am I?” Harry asked, looking a bit dazed.

“I would have found out everything I could if it were me,” Draco said, Hermione was nodding along eagerly. 

“Do you know what House you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around, and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad . . .”

Draco snorted. “Sounds like you’ve only asked Gryffindors. Merlin was a Slytherin you know. Also, I’m hoping for Ravenclaw, there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“I suppose,” she said, before standing. “Anyway, we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon,” She said to Harry and Weasley before she left, taking Longbottom with her.

“Whatever house I’m in, I hope she’s not in it,” said Ron.

Draco laughed, “Good luck with that.” He pulled his wand out of his robes and pointed it at Weasley’s rat. “ _ Colovaria _ ,” Draco whispered pointing the stick at Scabbers. The rat’s coat became a bold Hufflepuff yellow.

“Seriously!?!” Ron exclaimed, his face rivaled his hair in color. “George gave the spell to me, bet he knew it was a dud.”

“What House are your brothers in?” Harry asked, changing the subject.

“Gryffindor. Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don’t know what they’ll say if I’m not.”

“My family was in Slytherin or disowned, so . . .” Draco trailed off.

“Really? Damn, that rough.”

“Tell me about it,” Draco said, releasing the spell on Weasley’s rat and leaning back in his seat. “Anyway. Did you hear about Gringotts?”

“Oh yeah. It’s been all over the  _ Daily Prophet _ , but I don’t suppose you get that with the Muggles — someone tried to rob a high-security vault.”

“They weren’t caught but the vault was emptied earlier that same day. Which is why it’s so bizarre.”

“My Dad says it must’ve been a powerful Dark wizard. Fred speculates You-Know-Who’s behind it.”

“Call him Tom, it’s funnier that way. Hard to be scared of a guy named Tom, right?” Draco said.

“I suppose. Hey, what’s your Quidditch team?” Ron asked.

“Er — I don’t know any,” Harry confessed.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Draco said. “I don’t like watching but I do enjoy playing. Just being up in the air and flying around. It’s calming.”

Ron agreed before launching into a long explanation of the game. He was nearing the finish when Vincent and Greg opened the compartment.

“Vincent, Greg,” Draco said, standing.

“Hey, Draco,” Greg said. 

“We’ve been looking for you,” Vincent said.

“Well, you’ve found me,” he said, handing each of them a box of beans that held mostly bad flavors. “Congrats. Let’s go.” Draco pushed them out the door. “See ya around, Harry, Ron.” 

“What were you doing with a  _ Weasley _ ?” Vincent asked once the door closed behind me.

“Did you see who Weasley was with?” Draco retorted. “Harry Potter. I have no intention to become friends with Weasley but Potter is someone I want on my side.”

“Oh. Okay.” Greg said.

“Have you found Pansy?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Vincent grunted. “With Blaise.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Draco asked. “Which way?”

“Left,” Greg grunted.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Edited 12/9/2020


	5. The Sorting Hat Knows All

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!” Hagrid boomed. “C’mon, follow me! Any more firs’ years? Mind your step, now! Firs’ years follow me!”

They followed Hagrid down a steep, narrow path through a section of the forest.

“You'll get yer firs’ sight of’ Hogwarts in a sec,” Hagrid called over his shoulder, “just’ round the bend here.”

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of the lake. Hogwarts was even more stunning than he remembered.

“No more’n four to a boat!” Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Draco got in a boat with Pansy, Blaise, and Theo. Greg and Vincent got their own boat.

“Everyone in?” shouted Hagrid, from his own boat. “Right then — FORWARD!”

After the short boat ride, they walked up to the doors which opened to reveal Professor McGonagall.

“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid.

“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.” She said.

She pulled the doors wide and led us through the entrance hall to a small, empty chamber off the hall. 

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” said Professor McGonagall. “THe start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because—” she continued to explain the houses and how they worked. “I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly.” She said before leaving the chamber.

“This is boring,” Pansy whined. “Everyone should be able to just choose.”

“Come now, Pans,” Blaise said. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“But what if we don’t get Slytherin?” Theo muttered.

“We will,” Draco said.

“Form a line and follow me.” Professor McGonagall instructed us. Before leading us into the Great Hall and pausing in front of the sorting hat which sat on a small four-legged stool.

It opened its mouth and began to sing: 

“ _ Oh, you may not think I’m pretty,  _

_ But don’t judge on what you see,  _

_ I’ll eat myself if you can find,  _

_ A smarter hat than me.  _

_ You can keep your bowlers black,  _

_ Your top hats sleek and tall,  _

_ For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  _

_ And I can cap them all.  _

_ There’s nothing hidden in your head _

_ The Sorting Hat can’t see, _

_ So try me on and I will tell you, _

_ Where you ought to be. _

_ You might belong in Gryffindor, _

_ Where dwell the brave at heart, _

_ Their daring, nerve, and chivalry _

_ Set Gryffindors apart; _

_ You might belong in Hufflepuff, _

_ Where they are just and loyal, _

_ Those patient Hufflepuffs are true _

_ And unafraid of toil; _

_ Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, _

_ If you have a ready mind,  _

_ Where those of wit and learning, _

_ Will always find their kind; _

_ Or perhaps in Slytherin _

_ You’ll make your real friends, _

_ Those cunning folk use any means _

_ To achieve their ends. _

_ So put me on! Don’t be afraid! _

_ And don’t get in a flap! _

_ You’re in safe hands  _

_ (though I have none) _

_ For I’m a Thinking Cap!” _

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quiet and still again.

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” McGonagall said. “Abbott, Hannah!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Bones, Susan!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Boot, Terry!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Brocklehurst, Mandy!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Brown, Lavender!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Bulstrode, Millicent!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Corner, Michael!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Crabbe, Vincent!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Davis, Tracey!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Dunbar, Fray!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Finch-Fletchley, Justin!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Finnigan, Seamus!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Goyle, Greg!”

“SLYTHERIN!”   
  


“Granger, Hermione!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Hopkins, Wane!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Longbottom, Neville!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Macmillan, Ernest!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Malfoy, Draco!” 

Draco walked up to the stool and took a seat. The hat dropped on his head when it didn’t immediately shout out “SLYTHERIN!” he opened his eyes. He was only able to see the inside of the hat.  _ What the hell?!? What’s taking so long? _

“Interesting,” A small voice said in my ear, “little time traveler. You would do well in Slytherin, that much is obvious. But you now hold the wisdom of the future and age. You’ve lived through a war, yet you feel as though you have things you could yet accomplish. You’ve put yourself in a position you didn’t have before. You need to prove yourself . . . I haven’t made a decision like this in all my time in this position. But it seems we must make an exception — SLYTHERIN  _ AND _ RAVENCLAW!”

The entire hall went completely silent.  _ FUCK _ . What the hell is he supposed to do? 

“Mr. Malfoy. Take a seat at the Slytherin table, if you’d please. We’ll talk about this with your heads of houses after the feast.” Dumbledore eventually said.

Draco stood and put the hat on the stool before making his way toward the Slytherin table. He held his head high as he tried to radiate confidence he did not possess. It must have worked because slowly the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables applauded as Draco took a seat across from Vincent and Greg.

He didn’t really hear the rest of the sorting, but he did feel the stares leave him when Harry’s name was called and sorted into Gryffindor as well. Eventually, Blaise sat on my other side and Dumbledore said a few words, literally, and the feast began.

“Okay, Dray,” Pansy said while putting some potatoes on both of our plates. “How did you do that.”

“I don’t know, Pans!” Draco whined. 

“There has never been a double sorting in all of Hogwarts history, mate,” Theo painted out.

“Yeah, your robes can’t decide what color to be,” Blaise said pointing at my tie which was shifting between blue and bronze to green and silver.

“Is that really the biggest issue?” Draco asked.

“It looks nice.” Pansy pointed out, Vincent and Greg grunted in agreement.

“Brilliant. At least I’ll still look stunning. Problem solved then.” Draco mumbled poking at the plate Pansy had set out for him.

“Snape and Flitwick will figure it out,” Theo said. “I don’t know about Dumbledore though, ‘ _ nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak _ ’ really? Who starts off a school welcoming feast like that?”

“I suppose —”

“Don’t worry about it,” Blaise said, “You’re still in Slytherin right? And Ravenclaw is the only other respectable house, it could have been worse.”

“Imagine being in Gryffindor  _ and _ Hufflepuff.” Theo laughed. “That would’ve been awful.”

“Your right, I would’ve died if that happened.”

“Exactly!” Pansy squealed. “This is a great thing really. Now you can tutor for the rest of us.”

“What?” Draco asked.

“Oh yeah, Ravenclaws are known for their ‘intellectual abilities’,” Theo said. 

“ _ And _ acceptance,” Blaise said.

“Well, brilliant.”

“Are you gonna eat that?” Greg asked, his mouth full of . . .  _ something _ .

“We’re at an endless feast, Greg,” Draco said with a sigh.

“See you’re already doing a great job!” Theo smirked.

“Oh, shut up.”

  
  


(_)—(_)—(_)

  
  


“Mr. Malfoy, do you have any suspicions as to why you are in a position that has never occurred in this school?” Dumbledore asked.  _ That’s certainly how you calm someone down and assure them that everything is alright. _ Draco thought bitterly, he may regret taking part in his death, but he would prefer not to have any direct conversation with the man.

Sev and Flitwick had taken the chairs by Dumbledore’s desk and had turned them around to face me while Dumbledore himself sat in his own chair.

Draco ran his hand through his hair as he began pacing back and forth. “About that — I have a theory — I wasn’t expecting anything like this. I have a letter for you and Sev-Professor Snape explaining, I don’t have one for Professor Flitwick, I was not in any way expecting to be in Ravenclaw. I never thought I could fit any of the traits, but apparently, I do. I’m so sorry for this ridiculous occurrence. Could I just be in Slytherin or am I bound to both houses now? What about classes and dormitories? I know Slytherin’s a password and Ravenclaw’s a riddle so I’d really only need to remember one password at a time if I were to use both. What about the other students? I already know people in Slytherin, but other houses don’t like my family or Slytherins in general — that’s a problem in its own right but not really something that can be fixed overnight — also would I gain and lose points for both houses, or would they be split between the two? Or just one at a time? I know that, on occasion, some houses get ahead, or behind, the others, specifically Ravenclaw for the ahead bit. And —”

“Mr. Malfoy, slow down.” Dumbledore interrupted. 

“How do you know all that?” Flitwick asked. 

“Oh! I, er—” Draco whipped out my wand and quickly summoned the letters. “Well, you see —” The letters flew in through the window and I caught them easily.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Flitwick asked. “Did you cast a non-verbal summoning spell?

Draco felt his face flush and he began to sweat lightly.  _ Shit! First years can’t do summoning spells in the first place! Much less any kind of non-verbal! _ “Did I?” His voice came out high and airy. “I’ve had my wand for a  _ month _ . I can’t —”

“Draco,” Sev grabbed my arm. “Breathe.”

The three teachers let me stand there for a few minutes to get my breathing under control. I also cleared my mind using occlumency to get a hold of my emotions.

“Sorry,” I muttered. Looking down I remembered the letters. “Er, here.” I gave Severus the two letters. One had Dumbledore’s name and the other held Severus’s name.

“While they're reading that —” Flitwick said. “Could you tell me your favorite charm?”

“Protego Maxima and Molliare are charms that I have found usef— and would like to learn.” Shit, he slipped up there. 

“The cushioning charm is taught to fourth years,” Flitwick said, apparently not catching Draco’s slip, “and Protego is taught in DADA I don’t know if any other versions of the spell are even taught.”

“I’ve tried a basic Protego and I’m not that bad,” Draco said, “I realize that stronger charms, spells, and potions are harder to accomplish, but I will manage it.”  _ Going to school for a second time won’t hurt either. _

“And I wondered why you’re in both,” Flitwick murmured.

“Huh?” Draco asked.

“You, Draco Malfoy, are full of surprises,” Dumbledore said calmly. 

“Why am I not surprised?” Sev sighed.

“Sorry,” Draco muttered. 

“All is alright Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore said.

“It seems that Hogwarts has it’s first dual-house student!” Flitwick exclaimed. 

“You may choose which house schedule to follow as long as you attend every class,” Dumbledore continued. “You also will have access to both common rooms and will be able to bring other people into them. You can also sleep in either dormitory as we have put a charm on your trunk that will make it so that it is as if you simply have one trunk.”

“It’s a connection charm that will allow you to put something in your trunk in one dormitory and be able to find it in your trunk in the other dormitory,” Flitwick explained.

“Thank you, for allowing me this, Professors,” Draco said.

“The Slytherin password is ‘Serpentine’,” Sev said.

“Ravenclaw’s have a riddle that must be solved to enter the dormitory,” Flitwick said, “If it’s alright with you, you’ll spend your first night in the Ravenclaw dorms.”

“Lead the way, Professor.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Edited 12/9/2020


	6. Bloody Griffindors

“What, when given one,” The bronze knocker said, “you’ll have either more than one or none?”

“Er,” Draco thought about what the eagle said,  _ you get one and have more than one or none. Given one and have none. Given no choice. The mark—no, that hasn’t happened yet.  _ “A choice,” if Draco’s voice came out a bit shakey Flitwick didn’t comment on it.

“Excellent Mr. Malfoy!” Flitwick said as the door swung itself open. “The boy’s dormitory is to the left. First room for first years, and so on.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Draco said stepping through the doorway.

The deserted Ravenclaw common room is circular and quite wide, airier than any Draco’d seen at Hogwarts. Graceful arched windows punctuated the walls, which were hung with blue and bronze silks. The ceiling was domed and painted with stars, which were echoed in the midnight-blue carpet. The room is furnished with blue tables, chairs, and a divan. Next to the door leading up to the dormitories stands a tall statue of Rowena Ravenclaw made of white marble. Behind her is an extension to the common room filled with books. It’s nowhere as big as the  [ main library ](https://harrypotter.fandom.com/wiki/Hogwarts_Library) but has almost as many books. On the left of the room was a staircase, that was mirrored on the other side. 

The first door was for the first years when Draco opened it he was faced with four boys in different phases of unpacking.

“Er, hello,” Draco said. 

The one closest to me stood and stuck his hand out. “I’m Terry, nice to meet you.”

“Draco,” he replied, shaking Terry’s hand.

“The grumpy one’s Morag,” he said, pointing at the boy that was glaring at me with all his heart and soul. “Over there’s Anthony,” the boy gave me a small wave. “And the one with the book is Michael.”

“Hmm?” Michael asked, looking up from his book. “Er, hi, you’re the Slytherclaw.”

“I’m what?”

“Slytherclaw,” Michael said. “I was just reading  _ Hogwarts a History _ and that’s never happened before a double house placement. What makes you so special?”

“You ask as though  _ I  _ know the answer.” 

“It’s your placement,” he said with a shrug.

“I understand Slytherin,” Morag said, “What I don’t get is how you got into  _ Ravenclaw _ .”

“To be honest I wanted to get Ravenclaw,” Draco replied evenly. “But even then I’m just as surprised as everyone else. But then again the entire idea that we separate kids into four groups is absurd. No person fits perfectly into just one house. It also can have houses being labeled as good or bad or stupid or smart just because of a few of its members. Most people want Gryffindor because it’s the ‘house of the heroes’ but ‘heroes’ and ‘villains’ can come from any house. Hufflepuff’s been given the reputation of taking all the people that don’t fit into the other houses. No one wants to be a Hufflepuff because they’re always overlooked. Not to mention—”

“Well, shit man,” Terry said. “School hasn’t even started yet.”

“You’ve given this a lot of thought,” Morag continued.

I shrugged, “You can’t say I’m wrong.”

“I like him,” Michael said, Terry nodded his agreement.

“Er, thanks?”

Morag hummed, “Right then, ’night.”

“Night.”

(_)—(_)—(_)—(_)

Just trying to remember which class was at which time and which house Draco would be with at what class was a challenge. Tring to run into the stupid Gryffindors was nearly impossible until Friday. 

Like last time Snape picked on Harry harshly. However, due to some rare stroke of luck, he  _ actually  _ opened his books this year and recalled that a bezoar is a stone found in the stomach of a goat and that it could cure most poisons. 

Hermione on the other hand could not take a goddamned hint and insist upon practically leaping out of her seat to answer Sev’s third question. Harry, as always was the most oblivious fucker of the whole year, decided that making him acknowledge Hermione’s waving hand was a good idea. 

Neville blew up his cauldron and Harry was blamed, losing Gryffindor 5 points in one class. I’m pretty sure that was more than the last time. 

_ Next week I’m doing potions with the Hufflepufffs and Ravenclaws _ , Draco thought.  _ If I can, that is _ . Gryffindors can’t be trusted around Snape and Draco can’t recall the Slytherins laughing so much.

After class, Draco finally caught up to the golden trio. “Why didn’t you read your potions book?” he asked.

“I  _ did _ read them!” Harry whined, “I just didn’t memorize it like you or Hermione.”

“Speaking of,” Draco whirled around and shot a glare at Hermione, who was a few steps behind the boys. “If a teacher was asking a specific student what makes you think they’d call you? Especially when you’re jumping out of your seat!”

“I-I—” Hermione stuttered.

“And  _ you _ pointed it out!” Draco glared at Harry once more. “And  _ you _ ,” he rounded on Ron. “Didn’t warn them that Sev—Professor Snape has it out for the Gryffindors?”

Once the trio was looking sufficiently abashed Draco turned the conversation around. “At least you didn’t mess up too bad. You got out an excellent potion, Hermione, don’t draw attention to yourself and you’ll do just fine. Sev does grade fairly. Er, for the most part.” 

“ _ Sev _ ?!” Ron spluttered.

“He’s my godfather,” Draco sighed.

“That’s not fair!” Harry pouted.

“And?” he asked with a shrug. “Where are you headed?”

“Hagrid’s,” Harry answered. “You wanna come?” 

“I think I’ll go to the library and get started on homework,” Hermione said.

“I’ll go with Hermione,” Draco said, “I’m pretty sure Hagrid hates me anyway.” 

“He doesn’t hate you!” Harry said automatically.

“You did hear him in Diagon Alley or where you temporarily defend? He said my father’s name like he murdered his mother, blamed it on him,  _ and  _ got away with it.”

“That’s oddly specific,” Hermione said.

Draco shrugged, “It gets the point across.”

“You have to prove that you’re not your father,” Harry said.

“And how am I going to go about doing that?” Draco asked. “I’d much rather complete the month’s worth of homework, thanks.”

“I’ll talk to him. Please promise me you’ll come if he says it’s okay?” Harry begged, looking up at me with his huge bright green eyes. 

“Fine,” Draco huffed,  _ I could never say no to you.  _ Harry grinned brightly.  _ Especially when it makes you smile. _

“Library?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah.”

  
  


(_)—(_)—(_)—(_)

  
  


“Draco?” Hermione asked about 2 hours into our study session.

Drac didn’t look up from his potions essay when he answered with an acknowledging hum.

“Are-are we friends?” she asked.

“I would like to be, yes.”

“What about Harry and Ron? An-and your housemates?” She asked, her voice small.

“What about them?” he asked, putting his quill down and looking at her.

“None of them like me.” She said with a sigh.

“I would be surprised if the Slytherins showed a liking to  _ anyone _ . The Ravenclaws don’t care. Harry and Weasley are in your house, I don’t see any issue there —”

“I’m pretty sure Ron hates me,” Hermione said, dropping her head on the table.

“He just doesn’t like that you’re an excessive know-it-all. And if it’s any consolation he doesn’t like me either,” I said.

“You think I’m excessive?” She whines slightly.

“Being the smartest person in the year isn’t a bad thing,” Draco said leaning back in his seat. “You just need to stop trying so hard. It’s almost like you're trying to flaunt the fact that you know more than anyone else. Today in potions you were quite literally waving your hand in everyone’s face and jumping up and down trying to flaunt your knowledge.” 

“I am not  _ flaunting my knowledge _ ,” Hermione retorted. “I just—”

“It’s obnoxious how you try so hard. It’s better to keep your head down and show everybody up during exams. It’ll make you seem smarter and since you're a muggle-born all of those purebloods will look like idiots.”

“Aren’t you a pureblood?” Hermione asked.

“Oh please. I’m in the two smartest houses for a reason,” I laughed. “You’ll be the brightest witch of our age but I’ll be top of the year — the school even.”

Hermione smiled, a competitive glint in her eye. “We’ll see about that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 12/28


	7. Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how on earth I'm supposed to write Hagrid. He talks so weird, I get that he was kicked out of school after 3rd year, but why is his English so bad????

Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.

When Harry knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid’s voice rang out, saying, “ _ Back _ , Fang —  _ back _ .” 

Hagrid’s big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open. “Hang on,” he said. “ _ Back _ , Fang.”

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound. There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

“Make yourselves at home,” Hagrid said, letting go of Fang, who bound straight at Ron and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

“This is Ron,” Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

“Another Weasley, eh?” said Hagrid, glancing at Ron’s freckles. “I spent half me life chasin’ yer twin brothers away from the forest.”

The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth, but Harry and Ron pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid all about their first lessons. Fang rested his head on Harry’s knee and drooled all over his robes.

Harry told Hagrid about Snape’s lesson. Hagrid, like Draco, told Harry that Snape had it out for the entirety of Gryffindor, and hardly liked any of the students.

“Kind of the opposite of you then—” Harry pointed out.

“Yeah, ’xactly!” Hagrid beamed

“—Hateful against everyone from Slytherin but willing to give everyone else a fair shot, with obvious favoritism toward Gryffindors.”

“What?” Hagrid’s smile faltered as he blinked at Harry.

“You mean Malfoy don’t you.” Ron sighed.

“Malfoy? What has he done?” Hagrid asked, suddenly fuming.

“Nothing!  _ You _ just hate him because of his Father!” Harry snapped.

“He’s just like ’im, Harry—”

“Was Lucius Malfoy in Ravenclaw?”

“No, but—”

“Then how could Draco be ‘just like him’?” Harry’s voice was gradually getting louder as he grew more frustrated.

“Yah hav’n’ seen Lucius, Malfoy’s the spittin’ image—”

“Just because  _ I _ look like  _ my _ father doesn’t mean I’m the same!”

“Yah don’ ’now ’im, how could yah say dat!”

Harry hadn’t noticed when he stood but at that, he took a few steps towards the door. “You’re right, which must mean I’m just like the Dursleys’ ’cause they ‘raised’ me.” His voice almost at a whisper, compared to the shouting before.

“Yer nothin’ like ’em,” Hagrid said, also lowering his voice in an attempt to seem kind and patient. 

“Then what makes Draco just like his father? You don’t know him!”

“Why’re yah d’fendin’ ’im?” Hagrid asked.

“Draco’s  _ nice _ to me!” Harry said. “He  _ respects  _ people. He’s fair! He only gives his opinion when asked!”

“He didn’t ask for anyone’s permission after potions,” Ron muttered saltily. 

“He didn’t give his opinion!” I snapped. “He just pointed out what we did to make Snape even more irritated than usual.”

“Fine, fine! I’ll give Malfoy a chance, but I don’t trust him.” Hagrid capitulated.

“Fine.” Harry pouted.

“So, how’s yer brother Charlie?” Hagrid asked Ron.

Harry sat back down while Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie’s work with dragons. Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy. It was a cutting from the  _ Daily Prophet _ :

**_GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST_ **

_ Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. _

_ Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. _

_ “But we’re not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what’s good for you,” said a Gringotts spokes goblin this afternoon. _

Harry remembered Draco and Ron telling him on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but neither of them had mentioned the date.

“Hagrid!” Harry said, “that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might’ve been happening while we were there!”

There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn’t meet Harry’s eyes. He grunted and offered him another rock cake. Harry read the story again.  _ The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day _ . Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen if you could call it emptying, taking out that grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were looking for?

As Harry and Ron walked back to the castle for dinner, Harry thought that none of the lessons he’d had so far had given him as much to think about as tea with Hagrid.  _ Had Hagrid collected that package just in time? Where was it now? And why did Hagrid so quickly jump to believe that Draco was evil? What had his father  _ done _? What made him so bad? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 12/28


	8. What is this?

“What’s with you?” Theo asked. When Draco walked into the common room after his study session with Hermione.

“Er, nothing,” Draco shrugged.

“You were being friendly with blood-traitors and muggle-borns!” Pansy hissed.

“So, I’m not some disgusting prejudiced git? I don’t care what’s in their blood.”

“How could you say that!” Tracey shrieked. 

“You lot can be loyal little pawns,  _ I  _ don’t want to be something I’m not,” Draco shot back.

“You’re defecting?” Millicent asked.

“Not yet,” he answered.

“What do you mean?” Blaise questioned.

“I mean, things are going to change. I’m not throwing away tradition, just the mindless prejudice. Haven’t you noticed that other houses sneer at us and anyone that wears green? I-” Draco lowered his voice. “I just don’t want to be hated. How is it that we try to lift ourselves higher by pushing others down? It’s going to backfire. Sooner rather than later. I don’t want to be on the wrong side when everything goes to shit.”

  
“Draco-” Pansy began.

“If you disagree with me-” he began.

“I’m with you,” Millie cut him off, causing others to stare at her in shock. “We’re  _ Slytherins _ , no one likes us, and that’s because we do what they expect. I say we choose what  _ we _ want. Not what our parents want. We can show the school that we’re not the bad guys.”

“I-I’m with you,” Tracey stuttered.

“As am I,” Blaise drawled easily.

“I trust you guys,” Theo admitted softly. “I’ll go along with you.”

“Ugh! Fine!” Pansy huffed. “I’m in.”

I smiled at them softly, “Thank you. So, here’s the plan-”

(_)—(_)—(_)—(_)

“Hey, Draco!” Pansy called, “Come check this out!” She was standing by the notice board.

“Check what out, Pans?” Draco asked, standing from his place by the fire and walking over to stand next to her.

“Quidditch is starting,” she said. “Will you do it with us?”

“Sure,” Draco smiled at her. “Between you and me, the Ravenclaws get a bit jealous. They can’t handle me.” I winked, and she burst out in giggles.

“What’s so funny?” Theo asked.

“Quidditch,” Draco answered, pointing at the notice.

“Blaise, Millie!” Theo called, waving them over. The rest of the year slowly followed to see what the fuss was. 

“Flying lessons!” Millie beamed.

“Finally get to show those Gryffindor’s whose boss,” Theo grinned.

“Speak for yourself,” Daphne said.

“Yeah,” Tracy echoed. “Not all of us like riding broomsticks.”

“Bet you 5 galleons none of us are even allowed into the air,” Draco said, teasingly.

“Bet,” Theo agreed. “All of the other years said we got in the air the first day.”

Draco grinned, “So they say.”

  
  


(_)—(_)—(_)—(_)

  
  


That morning once Draco pushed open the doors to the great hall he spotted Longbottom holding a glowing red remembrall. Like last time he sauntered over and plucked the ball from the boy’s hand.

“Perhaps you forgot your tie, Longbottom?” Draco drawled, tossing the ball between his hands.

He looked down, he was in fact not wearing a tie. “Oh, er, thanks, Malfoy.”

Draco hummed, tossing the ball vaguely in Harry’s direction. “I wouldn’t recommend using that. It’ll just make you frustrated and you’ll forget more trying to figure out what you forgot in the first place. You’ll always forget something you know. It’s impossible to remember everything. That thing’s less of a ‘Remembrall’ and more of a ‘Constant-Anxiety ball’.”

Just then Professor McGonagall cleared her throat from behind me. “What’s going on?”

“Just explaining the anxiety one would feel if they used a remembrall as it doesn’t tell you what you’re forgetting simply that you’re forgetting something. It’s honestly completely useless.” Draco paused considering his statement. “Unless you’re looking to make someone doubt themselves and make them feel worse and perform poorly,” he appended. At her raised eyebrow he hastily added, “Professor.”

She blinked at him before turning to Harry who was holding the bright red ball, a frown on his face. “Is this true Mr. Potter?”

“Yes, Professor,” Harry said.

“Well then,” she said, eying me suspiciously. 

“Isn’t inter-house unity a good thing professor?” Draco asked, blinking at her innocently.

“Yes?” She said, but it came out more like a question.

“Are you asking me?” Darco replied, “Am I not allowed to be friendly with other houses? I understand that you encourage your Gryffindors to distrust and hate Slytherins, but is that really wise?” he asked. “Dividing the school is the best way to create another Voldemort you know. If a person is shunned because of what an old hat shouts when you first get to the school how is this a suitable place to teach?”

Professor McGonagall and all of the students that could hear him blinked in astonishment. 

“Right, well, I’ll see you this afternoon,” Draco said, nodding at Ron, Harry, and Neville. The Slytherins in my year followed me to the table in a trance.

“Damn,” Millie said, as she took a seat.

“You are good at that,” Blaise said.

“Why, thank you, darling. I try.”

(_)—(_)—(_)—(_)

At three-thirty that afternoon the Slytherins found themselves on the flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance. There were two rows of brooms 10 in each facing each other. As Darco had requested there was at least one empty broom between every two Slytherins. When the Gryffindors arrived Harry took the broom to my right and Hermione the one on my left, Neville next to her. Ron selected a broom between Pansy and Harry. The other Gryffindors looked distastefully at the Slytherins, not getting closer to the brooms.

“Well, what are you all waiting for?” Madam Hooch barked when she arrived. “Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up!”

Draco glanced down at the broom by his side. Damn these things were  _ old _ . Broomstick technology changed a lot after the war and the school was able to replace these old sticks with firebolts 5 years after the final battle. 

“Stick out your right hand over your broom,” called Madam Hooch at the front, “and say ‘Up!’”

There was a chorus of “UP!”’s as they all followed Madam Hooch’s instructions.

Only Harry, Blaise, and Draco managed to get their brooms to corporate on the first try. Hermione had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville’s hadn’t moved at all. 

“You have to be more confident.” Draco told them, “Like it’s already in your hand.”

When they tried again, Hermione’s hopped up but didn’t quite reach. Neville’s voice held a quaver that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Madam Hooch showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked around correcting grips. Draco snorted lightly when she found nothing to say about my broom grip and looked surprised. The look on Weasley’s face didn’t hurt either.

“Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard.” Madam Hooch said. Theo grinned at Draco, thinking that he had won the bet. “Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle - three - two -”

Just like last time, Neville pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch’s lips. 

“Come back, boy!” she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle — twelve feet — twenty before he slipped sideways off the broom.

“ _ Molliare _ ,” Draco cast. Just as Neville hit the ground, bouncing off the cushioning charm before hitting the grass facedown with a thud. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest. 

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville. “Just some light bruising.” She muttered. “Come on, boy - it’s all right, up you get.” She turned to the rest of the class. “Who cast that?”

Well fuck, first years aren’t supposed to know that.  _ Shit _ . Draco looked at the grass between his feet. 

“Draco did, Madam,” Harry said.

“Yes, well, 50 points to Slytherin for quick thinking and excellent spellwork. None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say ‘Quidditch.’ Come on, dear.”

Once they were out of earshot people started talking all at once. 

“Where did you learn that spell?” Hermione, probably.

“Neville didn’t need help from a slimy snake.” sounded like Patil.

“Why’d you help him?” Greg or Vince, Draco couldn’t tell.

“Nice job, Dray.” Pansy.

“How did you know!” Theo whined.

“Madam Hooch could have done it.” A Gryffindor Draco didn’t recognize hissed angrily.

Some once nudged Draco’s shoulder and whispered in his ear, “How did you do that.”  _ Harry _ . 

“Just a cushioning charm.”

“Madam Hooch didn’t think to use her wand,” Harry said. “You had your wand out and cast the spell before she could even react.”

“Reflex?”

Harry snorted, “Is that a question?”

“You caught the remembrall this morning,” he pointed out.

“That was just luck,” Harry said.

“Oh really?  _ Accio Remembrall _ .”

The small ball flew out of the grass and toward him. Harry snatched it out of the air before it could hit Draco’s arm. 

“You’d make a good seeker,” he said.

“A good what?” Harry blinked at me owlishly.

“Seeker, it’s a position in Quidditch. Your father was the one for Gryffindor you know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’d imagine you’d be quite good. Perhaps next year you could purchase a broom and try out.”

“I don’t know. I doubt I’d be a good flyer.” 

“We’ll see about that.”

“DRACO! How did you do that?” Pansy shouted to grab my attention.

“Well let’s see, I took my wand and said the magic words Pans,” Draco replied sassily. 

“Oh, hardy har har,” Millie said. “How did you  _ know  _ to do that?”

“I used my eyes?” he said.

“Why did you do that?” Vince asked. 

“Because Longbottom was falling from a potentially fatal height? I’d rather not watch someone die, thanks.” Draco rolled his eyes. Draco knows Neville wouldn’t have died but who is he to pass up the chance to play the hero. If he could get Longbottom to believe he owes Draco a life debt he could prove useful.

“You’re not wrong,” Hermione said, cautiously. “What spell did you use? It seems quite useful.”

“Cushioning charm,” Draco answered. “ _ Molliare _ . One of the many charms on a broomstick and one any Quidditch player should know. Most brooms have them so you can ride them more comfortably.”

“Oh, I read about that,” Hermione said perking up. “What’s the wand motion?”

“Er, I don’t know?” 

“What are you playing at Malfoy?” Brown asked.

“Huh?” Draco turned to face her.

“Don’t play dumb,” Patil sneered.

“Is this part of the game you were playing this morning?” Thomas asked.

“I wasn’t playing any games this morning, nor am I playing one now.”

“Then why are you so insistent on becoming friends?” Finnigan hissed. 

“I just don’t want to be hostile,” Draco said. “Like you are right now.”

“Come on,” Theo said. “Those gits aren’t worth our time.”

“They clearly don’t value their own,” Blaise agreed.

“Fine.” Draco huffed, turning to walk away. He was honestly hoping the other first years would rally to his side as easily as the Slytherins did.

“Malfoy, wait,” Ron said with a sigh. “I’m willing to try out this whole friendliness thing. I’ll come with you.”

“We can’t stop you,” Millie huffed. 

“Me too,” Hermione said. “This whole house prejudice thing is weird.”

“Whatever you say, Granger,” Tracey said with a shrug.

“I’m confused,” Greg said.

“Yeah, aren’t muggle-borns and blood traitors meant to hate us?” Vince asked.

“Who told you that? The idiots that think only of what’s best for their continued wealth and power?” Draco asked. “The ones that believe that the only way to have wealth and power is to take it from others? By wrongly following a madman, claiming Imperious to get out of Askaban only to continue preaching his values with less murder?”

“I’m confused,” Greg repeated.

I sighed, “Our parents are wrong.”

Vince blinked down at Draco stupidly, “What?”

“Nevermind, just pretend they’re like the rest of us, yeah?”

“Oh, okay,” Greg said.

“Merlin, why do I even try to let them come to their own conclusions?” Draco whined. “Better yet, why this whole house unity thing?”

“Good question,” Theo said.

“I have no idea why you’re so intent on destroying house prejudices,” Blaise said.

“Care to enlighten us, Dray?” Millie asked.

“It’s bound to fail you know.” Pansy piped up, from her seat on a patch she and ganger had cushioned.

“Pansy’s right,” Tracey agreed. “You can’t destroy generations of mutual hatred by not being a bitch.”

“I think Draco’s right,” Hermione said, “there is far too much division in this school. The whole house system is held with far too much importance. I think we should be separated by year.”

“That would make more sense,” Draco agreed. “I could put something into the governor's field of sight. But that would take at minimum 60% of the Wizarding World’s support if you take the people currently in power into account.” he paused, remembering when his father bribed Dumbledore out in second year. “Or lots of gold. Either one.”

“That’s not right,” Hermione said with a frown.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Weasley dead-panned.

“Welcome to the Ministry,” Blaise corrected.

“And the Wizengamot,” Millie added.

“Oh, that’s awful!” 

“That’s common knowledge, Granger,” Pansy sighed. “The foam on top of the cauldron.”

“It needs to be fixed!” 

“But can it?” Theo asked.

“That would take a literal war and mass death counts. The only way to get attention is by destruction or worlds of support. I don’t believe that anyone is happy with the government right now. The question is who will get change first and how will they go about it?” Draco asked. “Things have already started. The break-in at Gringotts isn’t going to be the end of it. I’d guess the Ministry’s Unspeakable department will be breached by the end of our fifth-year.”

“You can’t know that,” Pansy said.

“No one can confirm nor deny my prediction until we get there.”

“Ugh, you're talking like a Ravenclaw,” Theo whined.

“Why thanks ever so,” Draco’s words dripped with sarcasm. 

“Ah, there’s the Slytherin Prince we all know,” Pansy smirked.

“I hate you too,” Draco sneered. Plopping down next to her.

“I am so bloody confused,” Ron said. 

Greg and Vince grunted in agreement. “Just go with it.” They said before following my lead and sitting on the grass with the rest of us.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not trying to bash the teachers, just express their surprise and confusion. I do believe that McGonagal in particular would be really supportive.
> 
> Edited 12/28


	9. Chapter 9

  
  


“Draco!” A voice called. “Draco!”

“Yes?” Draco asked, turning around.

“Do you … have any … classes … with Gryffindor today?” Harry pantsed. 

“Just charms. Why?” Draco asked.

“I just really need to talk to you about something I saw last night,” Harry said.

“Last night? You were out after curfew?”

“Er, yeah.” He said, messing up his hair further and avoiding eye-contact. “Ron, Hermione, Nevile, and I saw this -”

“Nope, Charms is before lunch, we can talk then. You can bring all of your ridiculously idiotic Gryffindor friends.”

“They’re your friends too.”

“Did I say otherwise?”

“Er, not exactly.”

“I was teasing you,” Draco said with a small smile.

“Oh. Oh! Okay.” He grinned before continuing, “So charms. Yeah, I’ll see you then.”

“Later, you awkward Gryffindor,” Draco said with a slight smirk.

.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.

Harry sat next to me in our Charms lesson, leaving Granger sitting next to Weasley. They were working on the basic levitation charm. Or as Professor Flitwick put it “making objects fly”. 

“Now don’t forget that nice wrist movement we’ve been practicing!” squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. “Swish and flick, remember; swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too - never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest.”

“ _ Wingardium Leviosa _ ,” Draco said, lazily. His feather rose off my desk and he sent it around the room.

“Oh, well done!” cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. “Everyone! See here, someone’s got it!” Draco sent the feather to dip into the inkwell at Flitwick’s desk and attempted to draw a feather on the page in front of him. “Oh! Look at this!” He held up the messy sketch of a feather. “Seems the caster has some artistic talent, along with outstanding spell casting abilities.”

Harry bumped my shoulder lightly. “How did you do that?” he asked.

“I said the words with a ‘swish and a flick’,” Draco said in imitation of FLitwicks’ squeaky voice.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Flitwick admonished, “If you find the need to make fun of my instructions can you do the spell?”

“I am, sir,” Draco said, bringing the feather back to hover in front of him, before gently placing it on the desk and putting my wand down.

“10 points to Ravenclaw for excellent spell work.”

Weasley let out a frustrated groan from the table in front of them. “ _ Wingardium Leviosa! _ ” He shouted, waving his arms like a windmill.

“You’re saying it wrong,” Hermione snapped. “It’s Win- _ gar _ -dium Levi- _ o _ -sa, make the ‘gar’ nice and long.”

“You do it, then, if you’re so clever,” Ron snarled.

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her robe, flicked her wand, and said, “ _ Wingardium Leviosa! _ ”

“Miss Granger’s done it as well!” Flitwick said.

“Nice, ’Mione,” Draco said, leaning forward to speak to her and Weasley. “Do try not to poke someone’s eye out, Ron. You just need a tiny flick.”

Weasley’s ears blushed a bright red, as he huffed, crossing his arms.

“If it’s any constellation I can’t do it either mate,” Harry said, trying to keep Weasley happy. He was fuming for the rest of the lesson. 

.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.

“Why do we even  _ talk _ to those two?” Ron said to Harry as we left the classroom. “They think they’re so great, just a pair of show-offs. Granger thinks just because she memorized the bloody text-book, she should teach the lesson. She’s a nightmare, honestly.”

“’Mione!” Draco tried to grab her but she rushed past him, tears streaming down her face.

“You’re a right git, Weasel,” Draco sneered.

“No, you are, for thinking you’re better than the rest of us.”

“So?” he snapped. “That doesn’t mean you have the right to go after Hermione! She was just trying to help, and you gave up because you couldn’t do it the first time. It took her 20 tries to get it right you know. She just tried the spell for the first time before class. She didn’t want to feel behind for being muggle-born. It’s not her fault she has a brilliant memory. Talk about me all you like, but Hermione didn’t cause you to become incompetent with stubbornness.”

“Draco’s right,” Harry said.

“Oh, so you’re against me too?” Ron hissed.

“I don’t like bullies,” Harry mumbled, not quite looking Ron in the eye. “If you keep attacking Hermione for no reason then yeah, I’m against you. Just apologize.”

“I’m not going to apologize to that know-it-all. She got what was coming for her.”

“Right, well, I’ll see you around then.” Harry turned to face me, “So, library?”

“Kitchen, I’m starving,” Draco replied.

“There are kitchens?” Harry said, following Draco down the hall.

“Where do you think the food comes from?” Draco asked.

“Magic???”

“Magic cannot create food, it’s one of the five Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. It’s impossible to make food out of nothing.”

.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.

“You went into the third-floor corridor,” Draco said, forcing his voice to come out even. “Which Dumbledore  _ specifically said  _ was off-limits. Found a Cerberus standing over a trap door, and you what to find out if it’s guarding a grubby package you think was nearly stolen from Gringotts?!?” 

“Yes,” Harry said enthusiastically. “Can you help?”

“Can I help?! Harry! Are you seriously asking that question?!”

“That’s a no?” Harry asked, shoulders sagging.

“It’s dangerous and you’d definitely manage to get someone killed if you tried,” Draco said. “ If you insist on doing this-” he sighed when Harry nodded. “I’ll supervise.”

“You will!” Harry exclaimed.

“I’m not going to help. Just make sure you don’t do anything stupid, understand?”

“Yes! Yes!” Harry beamed, jumping up and wrapping me in a tight hug. “Thank you!”

Draco ran his fingers through Harry’s unruly hair and gently rubbed his back before pulling away. “Let’s go, lunch will be over soon.”

“Yeah, okay.”

.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.

During the Halloween feast, Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, visibly disheveled. The hall went silent as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, “Troll! In the dungeons - thought you ought to know.” Before falling to the floor in a dead faint.

To say there was an uproar would be an understatement. It took at least a minute for Dumbledore to bring silence.

“Prefects,” He rumbled, “lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!”

“The Slytherin dormitories are in the dungeons!” Pansy and Theo cried simultaneously. 

“Shit, Hermione,” Draco remembered.

“What?” Blaise asked.

“Weasley was being a git to Hermione and she got really upset.” he said, “I haven’t seen her since Charms with the Ravenclaws. Do you think she knows about the troll?”

“No,” Theo answered, concern written across his face. 

“Can you tell a prefect?” When Theo nodded Draco continued. “Thanks. I’m going to go with the Ravenclaws so I can ask Harry if he knows where she is.”

“Okay, bring her to Slytherin for breakfast tomorrow?” Theo asked.

“Yeah, alright.”

.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.

“Harry!” Draco whispered, tugging on his sleeve. 

“Draco?” Harry asked. “Weren’t you with the Slytherins today?”

“I was, but have you seen Hermione? She wasn’t at the Gryffindor table.”

“Not since charms,” Harry said, worry lacing his words.

“I heard she’d been crying in a bathroom,” Ron said. 

“I wonder why?” Draco snapped.

“This is your chance to fix things!” Harry exclaimed.

“Oh, all right,” Ron snapped. “but Percy’d better not see us.”

“He won’t because you’re going to tell him where I’m going,” Draco said.

“What? No!” He whisper-shouted.

“Yes. I’m going to get Hermione. You are going to get your brother to notify the teachers,” Draco instructed. “I have a feeling that the troll isn’t in the dungeons.”

“You’re not going alone,” Harry protested. “I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not,  _ Muffliato _ ,” Draco said before casting a disillusionment charm over myself. 

.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.

Draco smelled the troll before he saw it. Well over 3.5 meters tall, its skin was a dull, granite gray, it's great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long. The smell coming from it was atrocious. The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mind, then slouched slowly into the room. 

_ Shit shit shit shit shit!  _ Draco thought.  _ That’s the girls’ bathroom. _

When Draco moved to follow the troll he heard a high, petrified scream. Hermione was shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if she was about to faint. The troll was advancing on her, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went. 

_ Protego _ ! Draco thought, casting a silent shielding charm over Hermione. “ _ Expulso _ !  _ Petrificus Totalus _ !” The troll was blasted away from Hermione and she shrieked as it fell completely rigid on the floor. 

“Hermione!” Draco called, waving her over. “Let’s get out of here.”

She scurried out of the bathroom and he followed her out. Locking the troll in behind him.

“Is-” she began in a shaky whisper, “is it dead?”

“No, I put it in a full-body bind. The worst that could happen is it was knocked out.” Draco held her shoulders gently and he looked at her. “Are  _ you _ alright?”

Hermione sniffed and wiped at her face with her sleeve. “I’m okay. Thank you, Draco.”

“What are friends for?” I said with a smile that she returned weakly. “Let’s get you to Gryffindor tower, yeah?”

.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.

Severus and Professor McGonagall stopped them on their way to the Fat Lady’s portrait. 

“Are you two alright?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“We’re fine, professor,” Hermione answered. 

“Good job alerting the prefects, Mr. Malfoy.” Professor McGonagall commended.

“But why did you go after her on your own?” Severus asked.

“If he had waited any longer the troll would have gotten me!” Hermione said defensively. 

“What?” Severus questioned.

“The troll went into the girls’ bathroom.” Draco deadpanned.

“What happened?” 

“I put it in a full-body bind and locked the door with the key that was in the lock.” Draco thought for a second. “You might want to check on it. It could have gotten out. I don’t know how much magic resistance troll skin has.”

“Why didn't you lead with that?” Severus asked. 

Draco shrugged, “I’d momentarily forgotten that trolls have thick skin.” 

“Will you two be okay getting to your dormitories on your own?” Professor McGonagall asked. 

“I believe so, Professor,” he answered.

“Do try not to dally.” Severus drawled. 

“Yes, sir,” Hermione said, grabbing his arm and they continued their trek to the Gryffindor tower. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. New plan. I want to start writing the second book before 2021 and start writing the 3rd by August 2021.  
> That has nothing to say for the update schedule but that's the plan for now.  
> Once winter break starts I'll have a lot more time to spend on this, so fingers crossed this plan works.
> 
> Does anyone have an idea for a chapter title? I'm drawing a blank but I wanted to post this as soon as possible.
> 
> Edited 12/28


	10. Nicolas Flamel

After the first quidditch match of the year, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin, Draco met up with the golden trio. Slytherin had won due to the Gryfindor’s terrible seeker this go around. Draco had forgotten that Harry hadn’t gotten on the team. If he remembered correctly Harry had gotten the position when he caught Nevile’s remembrall after Draco had thrown it. Someone had been cursing his broomstick right before he’d caught the snitch with his mouth.

“Did you notice Snape’s been limping ever since Halloween?” Harry pointed out.

“Oh!” Hermione exclaimed. “Now that you point it out he was limping when he and McGonnagal stopped us on our way to Gryffindor tower.”

“Yeah, mate,” Ron agreed. “When he took your book.”

“Yeah, when I went to get it back I found him with Filch,” Harry said. “Snape had been holding his robes above his knees and one of his legs was all bloody and mangled. Filch had been handing Snape bandages when Snape said ‘ _ Blasted thing,’ _ ” Harry said in a poor imitation of Severus’ low drawl. “ _ ‘How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once.’ _ That was when he spotted me and shouted at me to get out. You know what this means?” he finished breathlessly. “He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! He’s after whatever it’s guarding! And I’d bet 50 galleons that  _ he _ let that troll in, to make a diversion!”

True to his word Draco didn’t say anything at Harry’s absurd statement, no matter how much he wanted to take him up on that bet.

Hermione’s eyes were wide. “No — he wouldn’t,” she said. “I know he’s not very nice, but he wouldn’t try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe.”

“Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something,” snapped Ron. “I’m with Harry. I wouldn’t put anything past Snape. But what’s he after? What’s that dog guarding?”

“Draco, what do you think?” Hermione prompted.

“I’m here to make sure you lot of self-sacrificing Gryffindors don’t do anything stupid,” Draco said. When both Harry and Hermione looked put out he added, “I might be persuaded to get you information but I’m not here to help or interfere.”

“We should ask Hagrid!” Harry exclaimed suddenly.

.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.

“Rubbish,” Hagrid said once the trio retold their thoughts “Why would Snape do something’ like that? An’ how do you know about Fluffy?”

“ _ Fluffy? _ ” 

“Yeah - he’s mine - bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year - I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the -”

“Yes?” Ron said eagerly, cutting Hagrid off.

“Now, don’t ask me anymore,” said Hagrid gruffly. “That’s top-secret that is.”

“But Snape’s trying to  _ steal _ it,” Harry whined.

“Rubbish,” said Hagrid again. “Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher, he’d do nothin’ of the sort.”

“Hagrid’s right you guys’,'' Draco said, speaking up the first time that evening. “Besides’ there are older more experienced people at this school that would be able to take whoever could try to steal - whatever it is.”

“Exactly! It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an’ you forget what it’s guardian’, that’s between Professor Dumbledore an’ Nicholas Flamel, not you lot.”

“Who’s Nicolas Flamel?” Hermione asked. Draco proceeded to slap himself in the face at the trio’s lack of manipulation skills, and Hagrid looked furious with himself.

.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.

One morning in mid-December the Slytherin students woke up to frozen windows. The grounds were covered in several feet of snow and the lake was frozen solid. The Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs to follow Professor Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health before they could fly off again. 

No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Ravenclaw common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. The dungeons were dreadful, the fireplaces not quite keeping us warm and no amount of blankets woven with warming charms seemed to help. 

Draco had decided he would remain at Hogwarts for the holls. Harry and Ron were staying to continue researching and he needed to make sure they didn’t do anything stupid, but mostly he didn’t want to face his father.

When they left potions on Friday, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it. 

“Hi, Hagrid, want any help?” Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.

“Nah, I’m all right, thanks, Ron.”

“Not even a lighting charm?” Draco asked, pulling out his wand.

“Eh, maybe a small one.” Hagrid acquiesced. “Thanks, Malfoy.”

Draco flinched slightly causing him to need to recast the spell. “Draco’s fine, thanks.”

“Sorry,” said Hagrid. “Tell ya what, come with me an’ see the Great Hall, looks a treat.”

So the four of them followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.

“Ah, Hagrid, the last tree — put it in the far corner would you?”

The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and 17 towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

“How many days have you got left until yer holidays?” Hagrid asked.

“Just one,” said Hermione, “And that reminds me — Harry, Ron, we’ve got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library.”

“Oh yeah, you’re right,” said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming from the tip of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree. 

“The library?” said Hagrid, following them out of the hall. “Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren’t yeh?”

“Oh, we’re not working,” Harry told him brightly. “Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we’ve been trying to find out who he is.”

“You  _ what _ ?” Hagrid looked shocked. “Listen here — I’ve told yeh — drop it. It’s nothin’ to you what that dog’s guardin’.”

“We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that’s all,” said Hermione.

“Unless you’d like to tell us and save us the trouble?” Harry added. “We must’ve been through hundreds of books already and we can’t find him anywhere — just give us a hint — I know I’ve read his name somewhere.”

“Surely Ron or Draco would know.”

“I don’t know how I would and Draco won’t say anything,” Ron said with a pout.

“I’m sayin’ nothin’,” said Hagrid flatly.

“Just have to find out for ourselves, then,” said Harry, and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library. 

.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.

The trio really had been searching books for Flamel’s name ever since Hagrid had let it slip because they were dead set on figuring out what they believed Snape was trying to steal. The idiots couldn’t finger out where to begin. Not even Hermione knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself in a book even though she asked me about it a week before Hagrid slipped out the ancient alchemist’s name. He was far too old to be in  _ Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century _ ,  _ Notable Magical Names of Our Time _ ,  _ Important Modern Magical Discoveries _ , or  _ A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry _ . 

Gryffindors were far too single-minded to think of subjects they did not know in. Especially not one that did not have an offered specialized class at Hogwarts, which made Hemione’s list of subjects useless. Ron had a much better chance at finding something on him as he was picking books at random, but there was no way he’d pick one with more than 300 pages. Harry was trying to sneak into the restricted section at the library. But there wasn’t a teacher that would give him a note. 

“Come on Draco,” Harry whined after Madam Pince had shooed them out. “Give us a hint at least.”

“You all know who Nicolas Flamel is and what he had to do with whatever was in the package,” Draco said with a shrug. “You just refuse to look in the right places because you don’t think out of the box.” 

“Gee, thanks.” Harry pouted.

“Madam Pince would gladly point you in the right direction you know.”

“And risk Snape finding out we’re onto him? No way.” Ron snorted.

“While I do believe that someone is looking to get their hands on the stone, I mean who wouldn’t, but there is no way in hell Severus wants it,” I said, casually slipping in a hint. 

“It’s stone?” Hermione asked puzzled.

“I do believe so.”

“You were giving us a hint,” Harry said, before beaming and crushing me in a hug. “Thank you!”

“Thank me after you find out how stupid you all are.” Draco drawled. 

“You will keep looking while I’m away, won’t you?” Hermione questioned. “And send me an owl if you find anything.”

“And you would ask your parents if they know who Flamel is,” said Ron. “I’d be safe to ask them.”

Draco couldn’t help but snort at that. 

“Very safe, as they’re both dentists,” Hermione deadpanned. 

.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.

Once the holidays had started, Harry’s slightly obsessive focus kicked in. It was a bit odd for Draco to see it from an outsider’s perspective. The Gryffindors’ dormmates all left for the holidays and the common room was practically empty. The trio sat by the fire in the ‘Good Armchairs’. They sat by the hour eating anything they could spear on a toasting fork — bread, English muffins, marshmallows.

Draco and Ron also started teaching Harry wizard chess. Ron’s set was very old and battered. Like everything else he owned, it had once belonged to someone else in his family — in this case, his grandfather. However, the old chessmen weren’t a drawback at all. Ron knew them so well he never had trouble getting them to do what he wanted.

Draco’s chessmen were also old but were clearly made of a sturdier material. Harry played with Draco’s most times because Ron’s didn’t trust him at all. He wasn’t a very good player yet and they kept shouting different bits of advice at him, which Harry clearly found confusing. “Don’t send me there, can’t you see his knight? Send  _ him _ , we can afford to lose  _ him _ .”

.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.

“You could have woken me up,” said Ron, crossly. When Harry told Draco and Ron what he did last night.

“You can come tonight, I’m going back, I want to show you the mirror.”

“Really though? A mirror that shows your family? Are you sure?” Draco asked. “I would have heard if something like that exists.”

“I’d like to see your mum and dad,” Ron said, completely ignoring Draco.

“And I want to see all your family, all the Weasleys, you’ll be able to show me your other brothers and everyone.”

“You can see them any old time,” said Ron. “Just come ’round my house this summer. Anyway, maybe it only shows dead people. Shame about not finding Flamel, though. Have some bacon or something, why aren’t you eating anything?”

“Harry, listen to me,” Draco begged. “That mirror sounds dangerous. You clearly can’t stop thinking about it. You’ve forgotten to eat, it can’t be healthy.” 

“Draco’s right, mate,” Ron said waving around a piece of sausage. “Are you even listening? Harry?”

“Oh Merlin,” Draco whispered, “this is bad.”

.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.

Harry picked up Ron and Draco after curfew. With all three of them under the cloak, too, they had to walk pretty slow. They tried retracing Harry’s route from the library, wandering around the dark passageways for nearly an hour.

“I’m freezing,” said Ron. “Let’s forget it and go back.” 

“ _ NO! _ ” Harry hisses. “I know it’s here somewhere.”

“Alright, alright,” Draco muttered, casting a warming charm on the fabric of the cloak.

They passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction but saw no one else. Just as Ron started moaning that his feet were dead with cold, Harry spotted the suit of armor.

“It’s here — just here — yes!” Harry exclaimed.

He pushed the door open. Harry dropped the cloak from around his shoulders and ran to the mirror.

“See?” Harry whispered.

“I can’t see anything,” Ron said.

“Look! Look at them all . . . there are loads of them. . . .”

“I only see our reflection, Harry,” Draco whispered

“Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am.”

Harry stepped aside, and Draco took his place. When Draco looked at the mirror again he saw himself, his actual age, Severus was standing behind him, so was Mother, Father, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Pansy, Blaise, Theo, Greg,  _ Vince _ . They were all older than they were now, all smiling at each other. That wasn’t real. It wasn’t  _ real _ . Draco backed away from the mirror quickly trying to calm himself. When he looked back Ron had taken his place. Staring transfixed at his image. 

Harry and Ron were talking but Draco didn’t hear a word either said. He traced the edges of the mirror with his eyes. “ _ Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi, _ ” was inscribed on the top. That wasn’t in any language Draco’s ever heard of. He read it again, then backward.  _ Ishow no tyo urfac ebu tyo urhe arts desire—I show not your face but your heart’s desire. That’s the mirror of desire _ .

“Get away from that!” Draco shouted, pulling the two away from the mirror. “Don’t you see what it says?!”

“What?” Ron asked.

“ _ That _ is the  _ mirror of desire _ !” Draco hissed.

“ _ WHAT _ !?” Ron whisper-shouted. “You can’t be serious!”

“Deadly,” Draco said. “Now back  _ away _ .”

“What—?!” Harry began incredulously before a sudden noise outside in the corridor cut him off. Draco’d forgotten to put up a silencing charm.

Draco threw the cloak back over them as the luminous eyes of Mrs. Norris came round the door. The tree stood quite still, after what seemed an age, she turned and left.

“This isn’t safe — come on.” With that Draco and Ron pulled Harry out of the room.

.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.

The snow still hadn’t melted the next morning.

“Want to play chess, Harry?” said Ron.

“No.”

“Why don’t we go down and visit Hagrid?”

“No . . . you go . . .”

“I know what you’re thinking about,” Drac said. “Harry, that mirror. Don’t go back. Ever.”

“Why not?” Harry pouted.

“It’s the Mirror of Desire, Harry.”

“It shows what we want, so what?” Harry said, crossing his arms.

“Yes and no,” Draco said quietly. “It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You—you want to see your family. Ron, he’d always been overshadowed by his siblings. He wants to be the best of all of them. I—I well I see myself with my family and all my friends, and everyone’s smiling and just getting along. None of those things are going to happen though. Maybe partially, but it will never look exactly like what you saw. It might change, probably will, honestly, we’re eleven. But even if you just see yourself as you are and you believe yourself to be perfectly happy — something — some small detail will be off from reality. It could be something like a wedding ring, or your hair is longer, your face is symmetrical, something, but you would look perfect. Hundreds of people have wasted away in front of that mirror, hundreds more have gone insane trying and failing to replicate the image they see. I—I don’t want to see you end up like that. Promise me you won’t go back,  _ please _ Harry.” Draco begged.

“Oh,” Harry whispered. “Okay, I promise not to go back.” 

“Thanks, mate,” Ron said, patting Harry on the back. “Let’s do something yeah? Take your mind off it.”

“Okay,” Harry said. 

.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.

Hermione returned the day before term started and had a different view of things. She was torn between horror at the idea of Harry being out of bead, roaming the school two nights in a row, and disappointment that they hadn’t at least found out who Nicolas Flamel was.

The Gryffindor trio had almost given up hope of ever finding Flamel in a library book, even though they all have read about him. Once term had started, they were back to skimming through books for ten minutes during their breaks while Draco tutored the Slytherins. To Draco’s surprise, some of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws would join when he was helping with a subject they were struggling with. Eventually, they began to form a year wide study group. Hannah Abbott and Neville Longbottom would often help with Herbology. Susan Bones, Tracey Davis, and Padma Patil did Transfiguration. Michael Corner, Ernest Macmillan, and occasionally Pansy would help with Charms. Lisa Turpin and Hermione helped with tutoring Potions. Terry Boot did Astronomy. Anthony Goldstein and Hermione were the only ones that took proper notes in History of Magic. 

Draco had started out doing only what he had done last year but in the library rather than the Slytherin common room so that he could keep an eye on the Gryffindors while they searched for Nicolas Flamel. Terry approached him first when he saw us practicing Transfiguration. Anthony joined next for Potions, dragging Ernie with him. Slowly but surely the group increased, Lisa Turpin was the one who created a schedule of sorts and started having more people help out with teaching the subjects. She figured out when all of the first years had their classes so that the study session for that lesson would take place after all of them had had the class and before the next one happened. 

Mondays are for Potions. Tuesdays are History of Magic. Wednesdays are Charms. Thursdays are Transfigurations. Herbology is on Fridays. Defense Against the Dark Arts is on Saturday as well as Astronomy. 

.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.⋅˙⋅.

On Saturday after lunch, I was helping most of the Hufflepuffs, Slytherins, and a handful of Ravenclaws with Astronomy when Hermione burst into the library. She sped right past our group and made a mad dash to the alchemy section. Ron and Harry followed her in looking happy. 

“Finally figure it out did you?” Draco asked. “Let me guess, you saw it on a chocolate frog card?”

“Yeah, actually,” Harry said, slightly breathless.

“How did you know?” Ron asked.

“You would have figured it out earlier if you didn’t,” Draco said looking back at his star charts. “Besides, Hermione is in the alchemy section.  _ Finally _ . I’d bet she feels like a complete idiot. And you will too, Ron, once you find out what is most likely in the package and why a dark wizard would want it. There is one I can think of that would need it. For certain health purposes caused by one Lilly Potter.”

“What does my mum have to do with anything?” Harry asked.

“It’s the only reason I can think of for your continued living. Sacrificial magic is quite powerful you know.”

“My continued living — you mean Tom,” Harry said.

“Indeed.”

Before anyone could say anything more Hermione was back, an enormous olf book in her arms.

“I never thought to look in here!” she whispered excitedly. “I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading.”

“ _ Light _ ?” said Ron, but Hermione told him to be quiet until she’d looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the paged, muttering to herself. 

“Nicolas Flamel,” she whispered dramatically, “is the  _ only known maker of the Sorcerer’s Stone _ !”

“Anyone could have told you that,” Anthony said. “Why is it so important?”

“They are Gryffindors,” Draco said like that explained everything. “They wanted to know why the 3rd-floor corridor was off-limits. They figured out that several Professors have set up defenses to guard something having to do with Nicolas Flamel. It took them till now to figure out what even though I  _ told them _ it was a bloody stone. They were simply too stubborn to think of asking someone else for help.”

“We asked Hagrid and you!” Ron protested.

“You asked two people and gave up.” Blaise deadpanned. “Merlin, Gryffindors make no sense.”

“What is the sorcerer’s stone?” Leanne, a muggle-born Hufflepuff, asked.

“ _The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Sorcerer’s Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers._ ” Draco recited. “ _The Stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixer of Life which will make the drinker immortal._

_ There have been many reports of the Sorcerer’s Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist, and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight). _ ”

“You got that word for word,” Hermione whispered astonished.

“You’ve been practicing Occulmencey?” Theo said more than asked.

“Yes,” Draco said.

“Occulmencey?” Terry asked.

“There are several ways it can be used,” Draco said. “It’s a non-magical art you can be born with it but can be taught to any creature that has memory. Many muggles call the form I used ‘photographic memory’.”

“That’s—” Hermione started.

“Amazing! Teach me!” Lisa demanded.

“Severus taught me. Ask him.” Draco said.

“N-never mind!” Lisa squeaked.

“He’s a bit harsh but he’s actually really patient,” Draco said. “If you don’t take too long to catch on that is. He hates repeating himself, which is why he’s so angry during class.”

“Really? Then why is he a teacher?” Hermione questioned.

“Because he enjoys teaching competent students. It’s not exactly his fault most people don’t have the patients or memory required for proper potions making. Severus has been doing lots of very basic potions with very similar ingredients and instructions to help students reach their own conclusions on the theory behind potion-making. So that when we get to higher levels we know how to recognize a mistake neutralize the effects of that mistake and go about doing it correctly later. Some NEWET level potions can become poison if you get the temperature wrong or you use the wrong caldron or even improper measuring tools. He just finds spoon-feeding people answers to be ineffective so he is trying to get us to come to our own conclusions. That is how potions making works. For example, several werewolves go to him for wolfsbane because of the tools he uses to increase the effectiveness of the potion. Because they are made of pure silver most people wouldn’t think to use them because it has the chance of becoming poison. Well, wolfsbane, the plant, is poisonous, but that’s beside the point. He knew that adding powdered daisy flowers would make it safe for consumption.”

“Wow,” Padama whispered.

“Exactly, most students don’t notice but the two potions we’ve last made were the same except for the order of the ingredients and the temperatures of the potions,” Draco said.

“The two potions we made were a herbicide and the cure for the drought of living death,” Hermione said.

“Exactly my point,” Draco said. “He hates that no one noticed so he’s been more snappish.”

“You noticed,” Hannah said.

“Because he told me,” Draco replied. “I would watch him make potions every summer. Severus is actually quite talkative when it comes down to it. Honestly, he rambles more than I do. And yes, I  _ am  _ aware that I’m currently rambling Pans, close your mouth.” 

Most of the people at the table snorted or giggled quietly at that. 

“Just checking,” She said, examining her nails.

“Can we please go back to astronomy?” Theo asked, “I really don’t want to have any homework tomorrow.”

“Sure! What do you need help with?” Terry asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all over the place and much longer than usual. If something doesn't make sense could you please let me know and I'll fix it as soon as possible.


End file.
